Awakened
by Memoir Snow
Summary: A story about mutants that resemble pokemon, people that mutate to resemble pokemon, and just plain ordinary people.
1. Chapter 1

"_**Protests outside St Paul's Cathedral continue as various people from J.A.O. continue to question the government's practice of culling mutated people and pokemon, despite the fact that it has been proven by numerous scientific facts that these mutated beings will in the end destroy the very world we live in…."**_

_Around 30 years ago, every single pokemon on the planet lost their powers. The Earth rejoiced;- This was closely followed by a dramatic decrease in human death rates, crime rates, and not to mention the cease of illegal pokemon fights that the old trainers were so fond of. For once, society was just normal, a peace time in a time of impeding disturbance which all of us had yearned for. It was terribly fortunate - Two major superpowers of Asia were about to delve the entire world into pokemon based warfare, which would have destroyed all of us. Not to mention, pokemon that were far too dangerous or troublesome to keep domesticated before now made excellent house pets. Dumb as any animal, they had even lost the abilities to say their own names._

"… _**Professor Silver once again explains that mutated humans and pokemon will turn into a much stronger version the "Sickened Beings" that we are now constantly under attack from, and a major problem in which we are barely keeping to the surface of…"**_

_Around 10 years ago, the Sickened Beings appeared, just as mysteriously as the pokemon's powers disappearing. An ugly distorted cross between people and pokemon which end up looking like neither; more like grotesque shells of something that might have been alive before. As for me, I'm thankful that I've never had to come across one of those before - or any of the mutated people or pokemon. _

_The news these days were full of Sickened Beings and death tolls. Here in the UK it wasn't particularly bad, maybe one or two deaths a year, but in the third world countries it's as big an issue as famine. But hey, that's enough of the depressing news for now. Let's see what else is on._

- x -

Flicking through the rest of the channels, they were pretty much all the same thing. Protests of the killing of mutants, discussions over the enhancements of elemental weapons used to combat the Sickened Beings, and research into the Beings themselves. I sighed, and in the end settled on a children's TV show. CBBC Morning Story time - the fairy tale on today was _Broken Doll of March_, my personal favourite fairytale. (Well, older girls were allowed to read fairytales too, right?) In perspective with the others it was a fairly new one, still with many variants, but it was about a broken doll, and a young boy who found it (some say the boy's name was March, some say that he found the doll in the month of March.) He loved the doll at first sight, broken though it was, and he took her under his care. He planned to fix it one day, since he was amazing at fixing things, but never really had the time; other issues always got in the way. The doll loved him back very much, but broken as she was, she was never able to leave the house whenever the boy left. So he stayed. He ignored society completely, in order to be with that one broken doll in which he loved so much. Since he rejected society for the doll, society turned and rejected him. They hated him, and on one dark night, they burnt his house down. Panic was soon searing through the air. He himself managed to escape - but the doll? In his fear, the boy forgot the doll in his house, and the broken doll was left crying, burning on the window sill, able to watch the boy flee but too broken to follow. Of course, the children's version had the boy make the doll into a real girl, and then they lived happily ever after, or something more uplifting along those lines. Yep - I definitely loved the children's version more.

Whilst keeping the volume TV on just to hear the alternate ending (well, there were a lot of them), I migrated from the living room from the kitchen grabbed some bread and cheese from the fridge and dumped the whole lot into the microwave. And that was as far as my cooking skills went. While waiting for the cheese to melt, I made my way over to the garden with a small sachet of assorted dried plants and weeds. This garden was extremely small - not even enough to accommodate a small child's swing which I've ALWAYS wanted as a child (heck, maybe even now). Even if the dimensions were right, this garden was almost entirely consistent of water, because this is where the pond is, and this pond belongs to my pet Squishy the Squirtle. Even for a turtle it was pretty silly, it could only really croak and swim and didn't seem to mind about staying in a cramped pond for it's entire life. It panicked when put onto any form of dry land, so I can't even take it out to the park's lakes on the weekends, which is what most people do with their water type pets.

The pond was dashed with pebbles along the edges, and most of the surface of the water was screened in plants, reeds and green algae. Me and Squishy both love this place. Tipping the contents of the packet into the water summoned my little Squishy to come forth from the deep depths of the water to the surface, swimming with it's limbs flailing around in no particular pattern. If I pet him, Squishy will croak and bob his dull blue his head under water again for a couple of seconds.

"_Aww.. Little Squishy is still as cute as ever… Ok Alyssa, time to get going."_

A quick run back to the kitchen to salvage the toast (which, by the way, had completely burnt by the time I got back. I gotta learn the art of microwaving…), hastily slotted in a few clips to my hair to make it look at least presentable, and checked my reflection in the mirror for the upteenth time. Being the vain creature that I am, obviously, full scale mirrors are placed all over the house; perfect for wasting time.

Portsmouth is a beautiful place to live, according to some magazines reported the best place residential area in the UK (coming in close competition with Dorset, Nottingham, and the various offshore islands.) My school, Carraside Bay, was a small one and stood at the top of a small hill. Due to it's small catchment area, all the students were local. With only about 200 students at the most, each year group only had one class. Unexpected for a school this size, it's community wasn't too close. I only have close friend, then a couple of acquaintances dotted here and there which aren't a total pain to talk to. Today, Wednesday, was quite possibly the best day - Biology first, which I had conveniently "missed" that morning, then three free periods followed by Modified Classics. These M.C classes since they were more like half a qualification, and it went into the history of the old Legendary pokemon and their origins, much like how the actual Classics lessons delve into Greek Mythology. On the days in which I'm was feeling particularly lazy, this could just double as another sleeping/free period.

That lesson was just an ordinary one, with my one true friend Clarice reading from a library textbook (since only she ever volunteered to read), while Miss Milton sat on the desk, glaring at everyone in the room to make sure that they were following the text. Clarice's voice was high and clear, so it was more like listening to a lullaby than an author's commentary. Maybe this was why I found it so easy to sleep in these lessons. Or maybe it was something to do with the cool blue walls of the classroom, or that my seat was far away from the open windows so it was perfectly warm.

"And so who knows about the two gods of the world?""Arceus is the first one," Clarice answered. Miss Milton raised an eyebrow since she was actually looking for a show of hands, but she let this one pass since Clarice was a star student in M.C. In the rest of her subjects… well… the only reason she doesn't get grounded is because she _somehow_ got an unlimited supply of cheat sheets.

"Very good," she said. "Arceus is the first god of this world, the pokemon god. Thirty years ago, every single pokemon _except_ for Arceus lost their powers, and since then, researchers have lost track on his location. Mystery, isn't it class? Can anyone _else_ (thank you, Clarice) tell me who the minor god is?"

A couple of groans around the class indicated that no one actually knew the answer, and that was true for the entire world. No one knew what pokemon the second god was, although a few speculations of it being Mew were floating around.

"Correct class! Trick question! No one knows the identity of the second god, Arceus' assistant." _Why, thank you Miss Milton for the insight into that which we already knew. _"That's the last thing on the syllabus for this term, you may now go and work with a group of people - now just wait a minute girls don't go yet - to work on - wait - a PROJECT…" Another class groan. "On the origin of pokemon. NOW you may go."

We all waited a while in suspense, until someone shouted _**"Cindy, will you work with me!" **_obnoxiously loudly, then everyone started to get a move on. Clarice shut her book and moved from the window, her seat, over to my position by the door. Her dark gold hair spilled over her desk; that same curly hair which made her look like a delicate fairy, that same hair which I've always been so jealous of, since it was perfect in every single way.

"Aly~~~~ssa!" Clarice half whispered.

"I have exactly no idea what I'm doing!"

We both said that line at the same time, then both face palmed simultaneously. "Okay then…" I mused. "We just have to find someone smart to join our group. Someone who's also dumb enough to join _us._ Ughh…"

A quick glance around the room showed that everyone pretty much had their teams set. The dumb guys that are popular for having no talent whatsoever, the dumb girls that are popular for doing sports, and all the smart people who would actually progress in life had conveniently joined up with each other. Wasn't that cheating slightly, keeping all the intelligence of the class closed off into little groups like that?

"…O…kay. Alyssa, we're screwed. In the meantime, wanna get some ice-cream before the real work starts? I'm boiling… although you're buying your own today."

I sneakily vaulted over my desk, then snuck out the classroom with Clarice while Miss Milton wasn't looking. Very ninja like, might I add. Although very soon after, we realised that we could have just waltzed out the door, since all the smart people left in unison, probably to visit the computer suites or something of the sort.

"Oh yea, I meant to ask! How's Fluffy doing!" Fluffy is Clarice's (very imaginatively named) new baby Growlithe. One of those pokemon which were too dangerous to keep before, what with all the flame throwing and all, but now they were just plain adorable."Omg!" (Yes, Clarice _did_ have the habit of actually saying o-m-g. The hyper little fairy she was.) "She's so cute! You should totally come round and see her one day, although warn me first, I need to clear up all the poop. Poop eat and sleep is all that girl does. Oh, and look cute too. Oh oh oh, we should totally get her to meet Squishy too!"

"Yea, but she might have to be going for a little swim. I heard Growlithes don't like water all too much, and Squishy doesn't like any land form with a solid surface.""Not to worry! Fluffy's a total ditz. She constantly runs into glass doors, I don't think she'll mind all too much about getting a little wet. And another thing - Aw look, we're too early! The ice-cream van isn't here yet!" I hadn't really noticed, but had made it all the way outside the building now into fresh open air while purely with Clarice's talking. Seriously, that girl talked too much; which might have been annoying, had her voice not felt like silk to one's ears. Outside the school walls is much better than on the inside - the square leading up the building has completely clean stone tiling, with a quaint medium sized fountain vaguely in the middle. For a small school it had a lot of money, that unfortunately went into outside appearances and not so much into education facilities.

"Hey Alyssa, if I give you some spare change, could you go to the corner shops for me to get me an ice lolly? I want the milk one with strawberry jam in the middle, please please take the shortcut so they don't end up melting kay got it? Thanks sis laaa~~~ve you~"

Before I could comprehend what was going on, or turn around and say "The hell?" Clarice had already disappeared somewhere beyond the horizon. I honestly wonder how on earth we became friends in the first place…

- x -

Take the shortcut, she said. It's to make sure the ice cream doesn't melt, she said. The shortcut will be completely safe, she says.

Let me tell you a little something about the Sickened Beings.

They're like zombies, pure hunters, who identify their prey with their sense of smell. The appearance is vaguely human - they will always have a black bandana over their eyes in the shape of a visor, most of them have long hair, and most will have arms as well. Their lower halves are constantly changing, either into a ghost form for fast travelling and flying or into legs for kicking based attacks. Each Sickened Being has a certain appearance or fighting style vaguely related to a pokemon, so this one I'm staring at right now has two huge canons strapped to it's back; a lovely little Blastoise Sickened Being. Only this one wasn't lovely, or little. It was my full height, and trying to kill me. And down here in this quiet maze of alleyways, no one would be able to hear me scream. Certainly, no one was hearing me scream like a caged rat right now.

I think I might have just about run into everything down that narrow road, trying to slow the Sickened Being down but in the end only causing greater harm to myself. I think, once, maybe, I managed to knock over a couple of bins to slow it's path and I managed to make it trip a little (how do you trip without legs, exactly?) but that only gave me about three seconds of time. The Being accelerated to an even greater speed than it was using before and kicked me straight in the back. _Oh, so now it has legs. _Instinctively I rolled over on my back to see the coming danger, and almost immediately wished I hadn't, and died not knowing what was about to come. Before now, I could honestly say that I have never seen a humanoid wearing a bandana, yelling _"Toiiise!" _at me at the top of it's lungs whilst holding the hollow point of a canon to my face. And quite frankly, don't particularly want to be doing it again. If I survive this that is…

Now what the M.B.P. [Mutant Being Patrol] suggest when faced in a situation like this, that you should call the nearest Patrol centre to you, give them your name, description of the Sickened Being, and await further assistance. Now, I realise that it's probably to identify your corpse when it's been half digested by a monster. How on Earth is that gonna help me at a time like this? More practical advice would have been useful. I did the only thing I could think of, grabbed it by the shoulders, and wrestled it to the ground, so now I was on top of the Being. Pretty surprised to be holding a solid object, I must say, I was expecting my hands to just fall straight through since the arms looked so thin and illusion-like. Simultaneously as it's back hit the ground, the right canon powered a forceful blast of energy straight up into the air - only later that I registered that it was narrowly missing my face. I sat there stunned, on top of it, while it roared in my face again, before it proceeded by forcefully kicking me away.

"A…Ow…" I groaned, as I rolled away like a sausage on gravel from the impact. The Sickened Being changed it's position, like a feral cat ready to pounce; arms crossed out in front on the ground, legs fully solid, canons level. And all I had to defend myself was a dustbin lid off the floor. Just as I picked it up, I felt another force of energy; directly hitting the metal lid, pushing me back straight into a brick wall. I dropped the lid involuntarily, since my arms were burning up from the last blow. _Freaking…_ Before I could look up again to get a lock on to its position, I felt a hand on my chest. _Its _hand. And oh, how I missed the sight of the hollow end of the canon, directly in my face. And that scream, how I missed that scream. The cries of this one were particularly high, and even after that terrible noise had ended the echoes would still scream in your mind afterwards. It's enough to stun you for a couple of seconds the first time you hear it, but I think I'm used to it now. I didn't get all this way with a Sickened Being to just die now. I kicked that lid off the ground, took the handle with a firm grip, and shot it straight at that monster.

It broke. It actually broke.

Ok, I admit, my aim isn't all too great. I was aiming for it's face, but I managed to break off the canon aimed at my face instead; I didn't know that Sickened Beings could break that way. Even I wouldn't question my aim too much, that's a pretty no - go area. The Sickened being wailed discordantly, as if it was in pain, and backed away. It probably viewed me as an actual threat now. Wanting to keep it thinking that, I caught that trusty dustbin lid and brandished it like a weapon. Its body twisted around for a bit, trying to change its form, trying to regenerate it's canon back to its original. I guess that weird reforming ability only worked on the lower half. In the end, it looked me in the eye (well, or the equivalent to it - you can't really tell with its eyes concealed) and made off in another random narrow street in the urban maze.

I sighed relief. Gone. Finally gone. I would have almost started laughing to myself - me? Fight off a Sickened Being on my own? A schoolgirl? Silently I fist bumped the air, not having enough energy to talk or even make a sound. Unfortunately, that triumphant victory was short lived. Down that same road in which the Being escaped, there was a child's voice that spoke, saying _"Huh? Why are you here!" _A child younger than me. _Damn Alyssa, you should have sent it packing! - I exhaled just to get myself pumped again, then trusty dustbin lid in hand, I raced round the corner and skidded to a stop just at the turning point between the junctions._

"_Don't worry! Get behind me and we'll fight this thing toge… …ther?"_

_Turns out, the valiant entrance wasn't needed at all. That kid who the voice belonged to was just standing in one place, with the Sickened Being in ghost form, circling him like a phantom. Not attacking, at all. He turned to smile at me, then said to the Being in a mocking tone: "Hey, sis. Did you meet a new friend?"_

_**A/N: Ok okokokok SO so so like. I made this chapter to see what you guys think of the settings for this - comments appreciated.  
>~Memoir Snow~<br>**_


	2. Chapter 2: A Little Encounter

He was pretty small, pretty dark. Pretty like a child model, and visibly carefree. Eight years old? 13 years old? It was impossible to tell, he looked like just a kid, but there was a certain aura that there was just a little more. And then I realised that I was still holding that "noble" dustbin lid in my hands, which suddenly didn't seem like such a valiant weapon anymore. It felt like it was rotting; disgusting, degenerate, and out of place. I ended up awkwardly chucking it away and it rolled off, obnoxiously, through the desolate street.

"So… you can… communicate with the beings?" I said, trying to make a little small talk. "Control them? Stop them from attacking?" Yea, I was stating the obvious. But these things don't just happen out of the ordinary. How much information could I get out of this kid before some unknown power slams me into the ground due to my ignorance? He had on the navy blue uniform of Aldridge - one of Carraside's sister schools that they kept close links with. Probably the reason why I'd never seen him before in my life.

"People always attack the things that are different to them - Xenophobia, you people called it? It's such a beautiful name, for such an ugly condition. Have you even just tried asking nicely?"

I got flashbacks of that horrid monster in my mind again, roaring at me through its mouth and empty canons. "You know, funnily enough, must have never crossed my mind."

"Oh? Really? Is that so?" He said, in a voice which didn't seem surprised at all. He caressed the Being's neck with a slender hand, and brought its face up into the light without any sort of hesitation. "I think you two girls would have gotten along together pretty well. You're very similar people." On a second look… he was right, sort of. That Sickened Being _did _happen to be a girl. My height, my hair type, and the same light chocolate skin colour I had. She could have even passed off as my fraternal twin sister with that resemblance. Well, if she had eyes.

"Then again, maybe in another dimension, then you could have been friends. It's too bad that we live in this one." Without warning, that pretty little hand clenched up hard like a vice, wrenching the throat out of place. The Sickened Being gasped and choked silently, but it still didn't resist. "Wait, stop, you'll kill her!" I cried out, but it might as well have fallen on deaf ears.

"Why do you suddenly care for her now?" He carried on, in that calm sort of attitude. "Didn't she just try to kill you earlier? Were you not, in your mind, referring to her as an 'it'?"

"And weren't you just defending her, a moment ago?" I replied, my voice going a little shaky now. But it was already too late. She was screaming, screaming without a voice, and eventually she just disintegrated into the air like pieces of torn paper. She was calling to me, I knew it, just before she left.

"I was only saying that you could have made good friends. It's always good to make close friends out of your enemies - did you know that? But that was only possible in another reality. In this one, the Sickened Beings will eventually start a war with the human race, left to their own devices."

He managed to dodge almost every single question I threw at him… he was doing this on purpose. Trying to act as if he was some sort of superior being, but he wanted to grab my attention for some reason or another. "Who are you - how did you manage to kill off a monster like that so easily?"

"You yourself broke her canon, and sent her into a retreat with no experience whatsoever - did you not? The Beings aren't as strong as the media makes them out to be. Fear just so happens to be an amazing tool to amaze the masses." I tried to get another of the many questions I had in, but there were so many begging to get out at once that my voice box ended up becoming a chokehold.

"Ah! I forgot. I came here, for you, actually. All this for you. You need to hurry up and head home, sis. Real fast, sis." He folded out his other hand which was in his pocket. Inside was a small doll that was a little scrunched up; otherwise when it was all folded out, it was in pristine condition. "_March_ is waiting for you."

The doll had distinctive swept back black hair and large, crystalline dark brown eyes. There was so much detail on that thing, and yet it was only made out of a soft fabric. I looked up to ask the kid where he got it from, but he had a strangest look of astonishment on his face. What had happened now? It was only after a long silence that I realised that the doll was in fact out of his hands, and into mine.

"….Sis ran in screaming, for March…" he said, assuming that I didn't remember quite what had happened. A while later I could recall it perfectly well - only, I was a little too shy to admit it. I had ran into the kid, shrieking ungracefully while taking the doll straight out of his hands, then sat there gawking at it like Gollum off Lord of the Rings. Really, I hadn't planned on doing that, it just kind of happened like a series of reflex actions. Yes, I was also aware of the fact that I had just stolen the kid's toy. But now I kinda felt slightly attached to it, I didn't particularly want to give it back anymore.

"I… uh… can I keep this?" I asked a little awkwardly. That surprised look on his face melted into understanding, until finally it transitioned into a laugh. "Keep it for as long as you need it, because you're going to be meeting the real deal soon. As I was saying, March is waiting for his Doll to come back to him."

Ah, so that was it. The kid was referring to the Broken Doll of March. But still, it didn't quite explain who, or what he was talking about or referring to. "Ah, you mean the Doll doesn't remember him? He'll be completely crushed when he hears that!… You'll remember soon enough, so don't worry. But really, you _must_ go home now, otherwise you'll never meet March again."

"I'm sorry, this may come as a bit of a surprise to you and all but… uh… I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

He started walking; not just any kind of walking, air walking. Walking up the sides of buildings has if he couldn't give two figs about the laws of gravity. "Home is where the journey begins. I've left a little… uhm, present? For you." He carried on his air walking, until he was far into the sky, and blended into the clouds like that disintegrated Sickened Being.

And suddenly, I was alone again, like that old dustbin lid that I threw away.

- x -

At least, nothing else happened on the way to my apartment. It was only when I locked the door and dumped my bags on the floor that I realised I was, in fact, supposed to get something for Clarice at the corner shop… God knows what it was now. I'm just thankful to be back in one piece, both body and mind. Expecting a nice, long, relaxing evening ahead of me after that ordeal, I hung my bag up on the rack by the door, then turned a corner into the living room. Boy, was I wrong.

Bubbles completely filled the air. Big, round, blue, _bubbles,_ bouncing off some objects and leaving small craters in others. That's right, bubbles acting as a destructive force. And on top of all that, Squishy was sitting quite happily on the kitchen counter. That's right, Squishy _somehow _managed to find the courage, and/or the motivation to leave his pond, open the back door, and teleport himself onto the table top.

Okay, not teleport. He probably climbed. I watched as Squishy's mouth opened; clear liquid forming, colour turning into a clear azure blue, air filling it into a balloon and then the entire package being released in a perfectly symmetrical sphere. It was so smooth, like a ballet performance… But why am I thinking that now? Squishy was half destroying the house, anyone might think that he would be mutating!

And that wasn't all of it. Without warning, the doorknob turned behind me as someone tried to come in - no warning who it was, or what it was for, and my limited genius was only able to scream out _"I'm getting changed!"_

"…In the gangway?" the voice replied. Almost collapsed out of relief, but even that feeling didn't last for very long. That voice belonged to my landlord, and I was running dangerously behind on my rent. Guess you could say I wasn't his most favourite person in the world right now. "G…Gang… yes! I was so exhausted and all, just let me throw some underwear on!"

"Oh for God's sake - you know, I'll call you at another time. When you're better organised."

I didn't reply. Didn't need to. The Landlord's precise footsteps retreated down the hallway, and I was just left alone for a minute with my thoughts.

- x -

Do you remember the story of _Broken Doll of March?_

A child lays in a forest. No where in particular, no season in particular. Autumn coded leaves, light snowfall and a blazing sun all rolled into one. No weather in particular. And the Saviour, was also, no one in particular.

He was a remarkable engineer. A true prodigy. But he was not supposed to stay here. He fell in love with the child, but humans weren't things you were meant to merely "fix". They wouldn't understand, no one understood him. He was meant to be purely perfect, and this version of him would ruin his image. What would a teenager want to do with a female child? No, it wouldn't be wise to return to them.

He could fix her. Even if she had no idea how to walk or hope, he would teach her Love. Because Love fixes everything - he didn't know, having never experienced it, but this time he had a gut feeling. Since on first sight, he learnt Love, so will the child learn when she is first able to see.

"Doll" was a nice name. After a month she even started living up to her name - with full sight, full mobility, she was almost like a perfect creation. He had managed to fix all that which common neglect had damaged with simply Love. But yes, it had been a month since he was outside of that world.

He wasn't allowed out the house for that long, and he was very much aware of the search parties sent out in his name. Used by the people he hated the most - father, step mother. How dare they even try to use his name? But he had to keep his qualms quiet, for they combed his forest pretty damn well, pretty damn close.

He hated his father's smoking habit. It was always screwing up stuff - his university fund, his house aroma, the forest. A careless lit flint set his new home dancing, burning. And all that smoke which he hated so much curled up to his bed, taunting him, threatening to pollute his Doll. But he wouldn't let that stupid smoke claim them both. He'd go first, since he was older and healthier, then call down his partner to join him.

Since he turned his back on society, it seemed as though society had turned their backs on him. Who knew they'd all be waiting for him there, with flashing lights and rolling films? And then there was that deluded tune, of having _"rescued" _him, or worse, that he was going to be taken _"back where he belongs."_

_That was the greatest lie. Or was it the one where they said he was delirious? No one understood him when he said that he had left his doll at home. No one would seem to understand that she was still left in that building, and worse, and worse, they still acted out like he needed saving. And apparently, what a relief it was that he wasn't taken by the Sickened Beings. Of all things, that was the least of his priorities._

_But no, he had to walk back to that ruined shack of a household, with father and stepmother, and all the time whilst staring out into moonlight seasons, and rainy weather, and leaking pipes in that small little four by four wooden box crater in the loft that he called a room; he could not stop thinking about that one Doll that he lost in March._

_**So... That's the second chapter, I believe. I really am going at a Snail's pace here.**  
><strong>~Memoir Snow.<strong>  
><em>


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